


Silly kids with broken dreams, and a lot of charm

by ko_writes



Series: The Rest of the UK [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Aromantic, Asexual Character, Attachment Disorder, Brotherly Love, Chronic Illness, Depression, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gender non-conformity, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Illegal Activities, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Muteness, Other, Past Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Poverty, Religious Content, Romance, Social Commentary, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ko_writes/pseuds/ko_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alawn, Alistair and Aeron were thrown out of their own home, thanks to their spoiled brother Arthur. They've been living on the streets for a little while now, and know a few tricks. They have a Robin Hood deal with the world; they steal from the rich and they (the poor) keep it.</p><p>However, these three are making some new friends, which is always good; Ivan, Yekaterina, Natalya, Vash and Lili seem like nice people after all, even if Ivan and Natalya are a little unstable at times.</p><p>Also, Alistair is wondering about a Frenchman that gives him money extra tips at the bar every night...</p><p>[May contain spoilers for England's Little Brother, especially regarding Alistair; so read with that in mind]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steal from the rich and we, the poor, keep it

   It was a hard life that Alawn and his two siblings had.

   They were on the streets after being thrown out of the house, all thanks to their snobby little brother. It wasn’t Aeron who broke the computer, it wasn’t he who smashed the TV, it wasn’t Alistair that hurt him; but their parents wouldn’t listen. No, because dishonest boys can obviously deny that their older siblings hurt them to protect them, because of fear – they won’t listen to the victim because he has been wrongly convicted of the crime of lying.

   Arthur would never break the computer! Arthur couldn’t possibly smash the TV! Arthur would never lay a finger on anyone! Out you boys go and don’t come back! We don’t have abusers and vandals in this house!

   He saw a man walk the opposite way to him, stuffing his leather wallet into his expensive-looking tailored suit pocket. Bingo; the man looked like he didn’t need all that money.

   Alawn shouldered his duffle bag a little higher and looked at his feet for a moment, walking towards the man in a distracted manner.

   He shouldered the man and quickly snaked his hand into his trouser pocket, taking his wallet and shoving it into the pocket of his own worn jeans, which were much looser than was probably healthy. He wouldn’t use the credit cards; he wasn’t that bad – he’d just snap them in half and throw them in the bin.

   “Watch where you’re going!” He spat, barely turning back to the face Alawn; probably something to do with his ‘street urchin’ look, posh git.

 As the man disappeared into the crowd, Alawn gave him a mock salute. Oh well, he could get some food for his brother’s now… 

* * *

 

   Aeron and Alistair both knew what their brother did, but didn’t mind in the slightest. It gave them money for food and other basics, and he only ever stole from those who wore expensive clothing and had the smug air of the rich about them.

   They only ever took the notes and change, and would never steal money from a credit card; their brother was a devout Methodist and felt bad enough pickpocketing, but he had a talent for it, and it’s not like you can get a job without a fixed address, after all.

   Their shoes clacked on the polished floor of the supermarket as they went about their shopping – baskets in one hand and their large duffle bags in the other.

   Aeron got some two-in-one body wash and shampoo rubbish ( _95p_ ) while Alistair got medicine for Alawn, truly thanking the Welsh government for free prescriptions.

   They got a few more things, but not a lot. With the soap, some vitamins with iron ( _£1.90 for ninety pills – saves 10p_ ), and a few essentials that Alawn asked them to get ( _£1 and irrational embarrassment from Aeron_ ); they made their way over to the café to wait for their brother to come with the money.

   Alistair stared dejectedly at a piece of clothing that caught his eye, a small frown on his face. It was a sweet little plaid skirt, like those associated with a stereotypical fantasy of a school girl. It was a mix of red and black and would be cut to about mid-thigh on him, and the slight flair would make his hips look wonderful…

   “Maybe Alawn will bring extra and you can get it,” Aeron ventured. Bless the boy, fifteen and with all the innocence he was born with.

   “I don’t need it, even if it is nice; my other clothes are fine,” Alistair waved away, not wanting to notice the hope that seized his heart. He _wanted_ it. Hell, he was a good person; why couldn’t he? Because their abusive dick of a brother got them thrown out?

   A sharp whistle cut through the two brother’s thoughts, bringing their attention to Alawn, who was grinning like the Cheshire cat that got the cream.

   “Would you not do that, it hurts my ears,” Alistair sighed; he’d discussed this with the boy a million times and it never made any difference.

   Alawn just shrugged, still smirking, and tossed the pilfered wallet over to them.

   Alistair opened it and gave a soft wolf-whistle. “They must have been on their way back from the back,” He stated, staring in awe at the many notes stuffed into the wallet, “We can get a lot of food and stuff then.”

   Alawn closed his eyes and nodded, almost sagely; but it was fitting in Alistair’s eyes, the boy was a bloody saint.

   “Oh! And this!” Aeron chirped, rushing over to the skirt and picking up Alistair’s size.

   “No, let’s not,” Alistair protested weakly as the youngest of their little trio put the – _beautiful, precious, adorable_ – skirt in the basket, “I don’t need it…”

   As he went to put it back, a small hand gripped his own. He looked back at Alawn, the boy’s large emerald eyes seeming to sparkle and his lips tugged upwards at one corner.

   “You want me to keep it?” He inquired, and Alawn nodded.

   “You deserve it,” Aeron confirmed, and that was that; he was having it – _I don’t care that it costs £25_.

   They got some bread ( _55p_ ), butter ( _£1 for something they could actually spread_ ), milk for Alawn’s worrying calcium levels ( _£4.75 for six 1L packages of UHT – saves 65p_ ) and various things that could be eaten without needing to heat them. All in all, it came to £80, but that was alright. They had food, Alistair had a well-deserved indulgence, and there was over £200 left to keep them until next week.

   They left the shop after paying for their goods and went downtown to find somewhere to sleep, laughing and joking all the way.


	2. Jack Sprat and his wife had a good plan - Alawn Kirkland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While trying to get Alawn to eat something, our trio find their peace - and loneliness? - interrupted.

   The spot that Alistair, Alawn and Aeron shared was a small alleyway that met a dead end a few feet away. It was a perfect spot that was out of the way and helped shelter them from the elements.

   They tucked into their dinner – cheese and tomato sandwiches with a glass of milk, two glasses for Alawn.

   Alawn shook his head as Alistair tried to convince him to eat the second half of his sandwich and the remaining glass of milk.

“Come on big brother, just a little more,” Aeron pleaded, a kicked puppy look on his face. Alawn looked away; he wasn’t used to not seeing a smile on what used to be chubby features.

   “You have to eat your sandwich at least Alawn,” Alistair informed, running a brush through his shoulder-length waves of auburn hair, “You’re losing too much weight that you never really had in the first place.”

   Alawn only crossed his arms over his chest, refusing anymore food; he felt sick as it was, and the milk didn’t help.

   “Natalya, you’re crushing my arm; give me some room, Zaika,” A voice – Russian, if they were to guess, and masculine, though one shouldn’t assume – reverberated through the narrow alleyway.

   “Shadows,” Alistair whispered, and they scurried into the dark corners.

   Alawn bit back a groan. He hated hiding; he was a fighter, for goodness sake.

   “This looks like a good place,” The voice mused, and three long shadows cast their oppressive darkness across the dimly lit passageway.

   “We might not be so cold tonight,” Another voice pondered. The accent was similar, but the voice had a feminine sound to it.

   “Big brother, don’t let go!” Yet another voice cried, more like the second but a little higher.

   “Natalya; I’m here, still holding your hand, it’s alright,” The first voice soothed.

   Alawn gestured that he was going to take a look and, before Alistair and Aeron could stop him, slipped out of the shadows.

   There were two girls; one in blue jeans and a shirt that was stretched taught across her… chest who had short ash blonde hair, and a smaller one who wore a torn blue dress with black wool tights and long blonde hair tied back with a white ribbon. There was also a man; his large frame covered in a heavy beige coat, his hair a paler blonde than the first girl with almost a silver touch to it.

   “Oh, who is this? Hello little boy…” The man smiled, and Alawn smiled back, “What’s your name?”

   “He can’t talk!” Aeron called from within the shadows, and Alawn rolled his eyes.

   “You’re an idiot,” Alistair grumbled as they both came into the light, “But sorry you three, we already set up here.”

   “We have problem, da?” The man inquired, taking out what looked like a length of lead pipe from his bag, “Because I have solution to problem; magic metal pipe of pain!”

   “Look, there’s no need to resort to violence,” Aeron reasoned but Alawn stepped in front of them, as if to shield them.

   “Oh, how cute! Tiny boy thinks he can win against me!” The man chirped.

   “Ivan, snap out of it!” The girl with the short hair yelled, slapping his arm with tears in the corner of her eye, “Come back, brother.”

   Something seemed to click back into place in the man – Ivan’s – head, and he dropped the pipe. “Sorry, it happens sometimes,” He apologised, the smile dropping and a mournful expression clouding his features.

   “You threatened to hurt my little brother, you –”

   Alawn shushed Alistair’s ranting. He turned back to Ivan with a smile tugging at his lips and held out his hand, nodding down to it.

   “Oh! Shake, da?” Ivan inquired and Alawn nodded.

   Ivan took Alawn’s hand and shook it, a warm smile on his lips. “I’m Ivan Braginski, and these are my half-sisters; Yekaterina and Natalya. If you want to know; I’m Russian, obviously, Yekaterina is Ukrainian and Natalya is Belarusian.”

   “Well, you’ve met Alawn,” Aeron beamed, gesturing to the boy in question, “He’s Welsh. I’m Aeron, Northern Irish –”

   “And I’m Alistair. We’re brothers, but grew up in different parts of the UK,” Alistair informed.

   “Lovely to meet you,” The girl with short hair – Yekaterina – smiled. Natalya just tightened her grip on her brother’s arm, causing him to yelp.

   “Nat, Nat; you’re crushing! Ouch! Ебать, что болит!” Ivan ranted, trying to pry his sister off.

   “If you want to share this spot with us, you can,” Aeron laughed, not paying any mind to the huge, flailing Russian, “We’ve got plenty of room and could use the company; Alistair and Alawn are becoming a little anti-social…”

   The brothers just sighed, knowing not to lecture Aeron; it never did any good.

   Alawn immediately brightened, then grabbed his remaining milk and sandwich. He stood in front of Natalya and Ivan, offering it to the Belarusian.

   She stopped, loosening her grip on Ivan and stared at the food with barely contained hunger. She took a cautious step away from her brother, took it, and went back to his side; but wasn’t clinging.

   “Thank you, but you didn’t have to give up your food –” Ivan began, but Alawn waved him away. He had to admit, the Russian man was quite… cute up close.

   “So, if we’ll be sharing board; how’d you get here?” Aeron inquired, the childish beam never leaving his face. 

* * *

 

   After the initial awkwardness, Ivan told their story. They had met in Russia and shared a house with their father and Ivan’s mother, but were thrown out after a few months. It seemed that Natalya and Ivan both had mental health issues; Ivan had terrible depression and mental instability, and Natalya had attachment issues regarding Ivan. Sure enough, their so-called guardians couldn’t take the strain and tossed them out.

   They had come to the UK to try and start a new life, but they hadn’t considered that a new life took money.

   “We got thrown out as well,” Alistair nodded, “Parents are awful.”

   “What did you do? Was it because of what’s in your head?” Natalya inquired, cuddling into her brother’s side.

   “Yes and no, I think,” Aeron pondered, “I think they were looking for excuses to throw us out.”

   “What happened was, our snotty other brother broke the computer, smashed the television and hurt Alawn. We all got blamed for each thing, but they wouldn’t listen; so we were out on our ears,” Alistair huffed.

   “Why would they look for excuses, you seem like nice boys,” Ivan asked.

   “Well, that’s the thing. I’m not a boy, for one,” Alistair informed, “I use male pronouns and my original name, but I’m what they call ‘gender non-conforming’. I always wore feminine clothes, and they hated it.”

   He looked at Alawn, who gave him a nod.

   “And Alawn’s a trans boy; our parents were transphobic douches that didn’t deserve him.” Alawn swatted his arm for the comment, and Alistair grinned.

   “And I’m aromatic asexual and they thought I was broken,” Aeron frowned slightly, “So we’re all queer.”

   “I’m gay,” Ivan stated bluntly, “That kind of thing isn’t approved of in Russia.”

   Alawn patted his shoulder sympathetically, and Ivan’s eyes locked onto his. The Russian had to admire their colour, that deep emerald, and their wide appearance; Alawn was rather… was beautiful an alright word to use? Was it to feminine? He didn’t know and didn’t want to embarrass himself by asking. 

* * *

 

   Later that night, Natalya safely on the other side of the small alley and him free to move in his own sleeping bag, Ivan lay awake. His thoughts were coursing at a mile a minute and they didn’t stop.

   _“Kill yourself, commie!”_

_“Gay fuck, you’re disgusting!”_

_“Hurt yourself, drain the pain out with your blood; it’s not like you don’t deserve it!”_

   He didn’t realise he was crying until the Welsh boy’s face swam into view, his head cocked inquisitively to the side.

   “I-It’s nothing…” He chocked out, “Go… Go back to s-sleep.”

   He saw the boy roll his eyes, and he turned on his side.

   Ivan was startled when thin arms wrapped around him, a small body pressing up against his. Alawn was… really warm. He could feel the boy’s small breasts, that were hidden with a baggy shirt, pressed up against his back.

   The warmth spread through him, his crying slowly dying down into mere sniffles, then nothing at all. He fell asleep with a calm smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! It's 1:22 am here and this took much longer than I thought. I'll hopefully post a one shot tomorrow, so keep an eye out :)

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, Alistair is gender non-conforming, but still uses male pronouns and his name as it is. It's a perfectly legitimate choice on his part, or anyone's btw. 
> 
> The prices are in here because Alistair is always keeping track of money - it's his thoughts. They're there because it's always going to be a factor in these kids' lives until they can find a way to get an address, then they can get a job, and then they can relax a little; they don't have a safety net at all.
> 
> Boring first chapter, I know; but we're just setting the scene here. I promise that there will be more plot, drama, angst and fluff from here on.


End file.
